Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Snowy Mountain Correctional Center ❯ Scar ( Chapter 3 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: AuthorFullmetal 
Scar and Kimblee's encounter.
Anime/Manga: Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.03.2016 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 347 | Status: Work In Progress
Scar and Kimblee's encounter.
Anime/Manga: Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.03.2016 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 347 | Status: Work In Progress
Snowy Mountain Correctional Center - Scar (2)
Scar looked around at his surroundings with mild wonder. Instead of ice on the walls, which was what he was expecting, it was really just poorly painted bricks. Though it didn't last long, all because he was practically leading himself to his cell, since neither Roy or Alex dared touch him. Constantly being scolded to stop just so they could catch up was frustrating. It wasn't as though Scar knew where he was going, but he figured if he'd wander long enough he'd find some cellward somewhere. Of course, it wouldn't be best to cause even more trouble for himself however, he did slow down a bit, matching the pace of Roy and Alex. They were momentarily frozen, before shaking it off and catching up. Scar would never understand how these two officers would be so nervous to be standing next to him, despite being the ones that caught him.
Scar was about to round another corner when Alex grabbed his left arm, and tugged him back. Alex then practically dragged him into another room, Roy trailing behind him. There wasn't much in the room. A chalk board, a table, and a couple chairs. It was almost like a presentation room, which Scar wondered why a prison of all places would need a presentation room. The box sitting on the table somewhat weirded him out, considering anything could be in there. Literally anything that could be used as a weapon against him, while he was defenseless. Of course the damned Amestrians would try to take him out while his hands were bound. It was called the 'War of Extermination' for a reason, so finishing the job would be near nothing.
Alex flipped open the lid of the box, and looked as confused as Scar did.
They were.. handcuffs supposedly. Made as chainmail, and looking like gloves. At the end of the cuffs, were rings that Scar assumed would lock around one's wrists. Alex gave Roy a questioning look, handing one of the cuffs to the colonel.
"Fuhrer Bradley said the cuffs would be specially made but... these are practically gloves?" Roy said, putting his hand in the cuff. It was way too big for his hand, obviously being since they weren't made for him, and seemed just a little too small for Alex's hand. As seeing they couldn't really stand there forever, Alex got to untying the rope, and unlocking the cuffs. Roy was on high alert, presumably ready to snap at any given time. It made him sound a lot less deadly than he was. Watch out for the Flame Alchemist, he'll snap at you.
Scar held out his hands, not up for any argument that would have most likely happened. Roy handed Alex the right cuff, looking keen on not touching Scar whatsoever. Alex rolled his eyes, but made haste when putting on the cuffs, or trying. Scar's jacket sleeves were in the way. Alex awkwardly gestured for him to move his sleeve, which he did. Realizing that it could be the last time he felt his own skin, for a long while at least, was a downer on the situation, but he shouldn't have gotten arrested. A careless mistake to fight the officers, when he should have just fled. It was karma, of course. Alex made haste with putting on the cuffs, being wary when he was putting on the right cuff, as though Scar would kill him then and there. Once the cuffs were on, Alex locked them into place simultaneously.
Alex muttered something about bravery passed down for generations. Scar mentally rolled his eyes. It wasn't as though he could make an escape attempt anyway. It wasn't like he could. Too cold, and he couldn't rob the car they drove here, since he didn't know how to drive. So he followed along, eyes darting around. Compared to before, Scar wasn't in nearly as much danger as he was. Since the glove-like cuffs weren't connected together, he could move his arms as he pleased, so if he couldn't use his alchemy, at least he could pack a punch.
Scar's captors lead him down the maze-like halls of the prison, to his awaiting cell.
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Scar had been sitting silently in his cell for twenty minutes. There had been no point of sleep, since when he had arrived, the prisoners would be forced to wake up half an hour later anyway, so he waited. The moment he had entered his cell, he figured out it would not be to himself, as there was a shirt and jacket discarded near the other bunk. The blanket that was presumably set out on his bed was wadded into a ball on the other, since there were two. Scar didn't much mind. The Amestrians took the slightest bit of mercy, allowing him to keep his jacket. It wasn't freezing, but it was still cold.
As he sat on his bed, staring at nothing in particular, a voice caught his attention.
"You know.. cold... how you.." said the prisoner. Scar's cell was at the very back of the ward, so it was hard to hear all of what he was saying. It wasn't as though he were that interested, whomever this was broke him out of his thoughts, and realizing it could be who he shared the cell with, listening was a little more important than daydreaming.
"Is he.. yet? The only re.. out there was.. him." the prisoner continued, his voice easier to hear as he made his way closer. Scar crossed his arms, either it was him, or it was getting colder. Seeing as a blizzard could have started, it was probably getting colder. A part of him hoped the Colonel and Major got lost.
"Why wont you tell.. me? You'll drag me to my cell, but.. you wont talk to me?" complained the prisoner. Scar wondered why he needed to be dragged, unless he was just refusing to walk. Was it the person he had caught a glimpse of in the garage? Scar didn't see much, other than black hair. It was a slim chance but very possible.
The prisoner had stopped talking, but not long after the door to his cell was presumably kicked open, seeing how much force was applied. Said prisoner was thrown into his cell, landing flat on his chest as the door slammed behind him. What shocked Scar was, the prisoner didn't even seem to take notice of him. Well, it wasn't that shocking, he was sitting completely still and silent, but it wasn't like he just blended in or anything. The prisoner slowly pushed himself onto his hands and knees, muttering swears under his breath as he made his way over to his shirt and jacket. The prisoner's back was lined with blotchy pink and red scars, almost looking like a toddler had colored them in.
"Sorry... you have to see me.. like this." the prisoner said through chattering teeth, pulling on his shirt, and then his jacket. So he had seen Scar then, obviously. Scar didn't respond, didn't feel like it anyway. The prisoner then turned, now facing his cellmate, a smile on his face despite looking as though he was just near death.
It only took a second at most to figure out who this man was. The one that plagued his dreams, the one who aided the extermination of Ishval, the one who killed his family, the one who gave him his dreaded alchemy. Anger welled up within Scar, his once calm expression now twisted with rage and utter disgust. Of all the prisoners in Amestris, he was forced to share a cell with the psycho who massacred his people. The Crimson Lotus Alchemist. Kimblee.
Kimblee seemed to recognize him as well, his forced smile changing to the sadistic grin he remembered.
"Oh my! Now when my lovely guards gossiped about an Ishvalan prisoner, never in a million years would I have expected you!" Kimblee said, or rather taunted. Scar shot up from his bunk, and grabbed Kimblee's collar, lifting him off the floor to face level. Kimblee weakly reached up and held onto Scar's arm, to preven't further injury.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Scar growled, his tone matching his deadly gaze. Kimblee winced, obviously severely weakened from whatever the prison had done to him. The hideous grin never left his face, he didn't respond, not for a second at least.
"Didn't expect to find someone so vile here? This is prison, you know. Usually only the worst of people end up here. The people who are looked at in disgust. Who, are feared and shunned. Who have enough blood staining their hands, they could drown in it. Only the people who are true monsters end up here." Kimblee said, tightening his grip on Scar's arm. Scar glanced down at Kimblee's hand, noticing that his fingertips had a bluish hue.
Scar pulled Kimblee's hands off his arm, and (quite literally) tossed him into the bed frame. Kimblee gasped as his spine hit the metal, his eyes widening for a second before turning into slits. Scar then sat down on his bunk, crossing his arms, partly because he was absolutely pissed, and because it definitely was getting colder. Kimblee smirked, and climbed onto his bunk.
"You are a monster. I've heard about what you've done. Eleven people? State alchemists, nonetheless! You even killed Iron Blood! He was a thorn, took the killing of your people seriously, but not in the right way. He didn't think too higly of it. Not as highly as he should have thought of it." Kimblee murmured, staring Scar in the eye.
"Shut your mouth, you pitiful excuse of a human." Scar said, looking anywhere but at Kimblee. As much as it bothered him, he couldn't look at Kimblee. If he had to look at his ugly grin for any longer, Scar would literally kill him.
"You don't want to admit it, but deep down you know. Me and you? We're in the same boat. We're both heartless killers. Killing for sport. For blood. We destroy things, and don't think much of it. It's in our nature." Kimblee said, before shutting up, leaving Scar to sit and try to calm himself.
Out of all the people in Amestris, all the prisoners in Amestris, he was stuck in the cell with the man he hated the most.
Scar looked around at his surroundings with mild wonder. Instead of ice on the walls, which was what he was expecting, it was really just poorly painted bricks. Though it didn't last long, all because he was practically leading himself to his cell, since neither Roy or Alex dared touch him. Constantly being scolded to stop just so they could catch up was frustrating. It wasn't as though Scar knew where he was going, but he figured if he'd wander long enough he'd find some cellward somewhere. Of course, it wouldn't be best to cause even more trouble for himself however, he did slow down a bit, matching the pace of Roy and Alex. They were momentarily frozen, before shaking it off and catching up. Scar would never understand how these two officers would be so nervous to be standing next to him, despite being the ones that caught him.
Scar was about to round another corner when Alex grabbed his left arm, and tugged him back. Alex then practically dragged him into another room, Roy trailing behind him. There wasn't much in the room. A chalk board, a table, and a couple chairs. It was almost like a presentation room, which Scar wondered why a prison of all places would need a presentation room. The box sitting on the table somewhat weirded him out, considering anything could be in there. Literally anything that could be used as a weapon against him, while he was defenseless. Of course the damned Amestrians would try to take him out while his hands were bound. It was called the 'War of Extermination' for a reason, so finishing the job would be near nothing.
Alex flipped open the lid of the box, and looked as confused as Scar did.
They were.. handcuffs supposedly. Made as chainmail, and looking like gloves. At the end of the cuffs, were rings that Scar assumed would lock around one's wrists. Alex gave Roy a questioning look, handing one of the cuffs to the colonel.
"Fuhrer Bradley said the cuffs would be specially made but... these are practically gloves?" Roy said, putting his hand in the cuff. It was way too big for his hand, obviously being since they weren't made for him, and seemed just a little too small for Alex's hand. As seeing they couldn't really stand there forever, Alex got to untying the rope, and unlocking the cuffs. Roy was on high alert, presumably ready to snap at any given time. It made him sound a lot less deadly than he was. Watch out for the Flame Alchemist, he'll snap at you.
Scar held out his hands, not up for any argument that would have most likely happened. Roy handed Alex the right cuff, looking keen on not touching Scar whatsoever. Alex rolled his eyes, but made haste when putting on the cuffs, or trying. Scar's jacket sleeves were in the way. Alex awkwardly gestured for him to move his sleeve, which he did. Realizing that it could be the last time he felt his own skin, for a long while at least, was a downer on the situation, but he shouldn't have gotten arrested. A careless mistake to fight the officers, when he should have just fled. It was karma, of course. Alex made haste with putting on the cuffs, being wary when he was putting on the right cuff, as though Scar would kill him then and there. Once the cuffs were on, Alex locked them into place simultaneously.
Alex muttered something about bravery passed down for generations. Scar mentally rolled his eyes. It wasn't as though he could make an escape attempt anyway. It wasn't like he could. Too cold, and he couldn't rob the car they drove here, since he didn't know how to drive. So he followed along, eyes darting around. Compared to before, Scar wasn't in nearly as much danger as he was. Since the glove-like cuffs weren't connected together, he could move his arms as he pleased, so if he couldn't use his alchemy, at least he could pack a punch.
Scar's captors lead him down the maze-like halls of the prison, to his awaiting cell.
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Scar had been sitting silently in his cell for twenty minutes. There had been no point of sleep, since when he had arrived, the prisoners would be forced to wake up half an hour later anyway, so he waited. The moment he had entered his cell, he figured out it would not be to himself, as there was a shirt and jacket discarded near the other bunk. The blanket that was presumably set out on his bed was wadded into a ball on the other, since there were two. Scar didn't much mind. The Amestrians took the slightest bit of mercy, allowing him to keep his jacket. It wasn't freezing, but it was still cold.
As he sat on his bed, staring at nothing in particular, a voice caught his attention.
"You know.. cold... how you.." said the prisoner. Scar's cell was at the very back of the ward, so it was hard to hear all of what he was saying. It wasn't as though he were that interested, whomever this was broke him out of his thoughts, and realizing it could be who he shared the cell with, listening was a little more important than daydreaming.
"Is he.. yet? The only re.. out there was.. him." the prisoner continued, his voice easier to hear as he made his way closer. Scar crossed his arms, either it was him, or it was getting colder. Seeing as a blizzard could have started, it was probably getting colder. A part of him hoped the Colonel and Major got lost.
"Why wont you tell.. me? You'll drag me to my cell, but.. you wont talk to me?" complained the prisoner. Scar wondered why he needed to be dragged, unless he was just refusing to walk. Was it the person he had caught a glimpse of in the garage? Scar didn't see much, other than black hair. It was a slim chance but very possible.
The prisoner had stopped talking, but not long after the door to his cell was presumably kicked open, seeing how much force was applied. Said prisoner was thrown into his cell, landing flat on his chest as the door slammed behind him. What shocked Scar was, the prisoner didn't even seem to take notice of him. Well, it wasn't that shocking, he was sitting completely still and silent, but it wasn't like he just blended in or anything. The prisoner slowly pushed himself onto his hands and knees, muttering swears under his breath as he made his way over to his shirt and jacket. The prisoner's back was lined with blotchy pink and red scars, almost looking like a toddler had colored them in.
"Sorry... you have to see me.. like this." the prisoner said through chattering teeth, pulling on his shirt, and then his jacket. So he had seen Scar then, obviously. Scar didn't respond, didn't feel like it anyway. The prisoner then turned, now facing his cellmate, a smile on his face despite looking as though he was just near death.
It only took a second at most to figure out who this man was. The one that plagued his dreams, the one who aided the extermination of Ishval, the one who killed his family, the one who gave him his dreaded alchemy. Anger welled up within Scar, his once calm expression now twisted with rage and utter disgust. Of all the prisoners in Amestris, he was forced to share a cell with the psycho who massacred his people. The Crimson Lotus Alchemist. Kimblee.
Kimblee seemed to recognize him as well, his forced smile changing to the sadistic grin he remembered.
"Oh my! Now when my lovely guards gossiped about an Ishvalan prisoner, never in a million years would I have expected you!" Kimblee said, or rather taunted. Scar shot up from his bunk, and grabbed Kimblee's collar, lifting him off the floor to face level. Kimblee weakly reached up and held onto Scar's arm, to preven't further injury.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Scar growled, his tone matching his deadly gaze. Kimblee winced, obviously severely weakened from whatever the prison had done to him. The hideous grin never left his face, he didn't respond, not for a second at least.
"Didn't expect to find someone so vile here? This is prison, you know. Usually only the worst of people end up here. The people who are looked at in disgust. Who, are feared and shunned. Who have enough blood staining their hands, they could drown in it. Only the people who are true monsters end up here." Kimblee said, tightening his grip on Scar's arm. Scar glanced down at Kimblee's hand, noticing that his fingertips had a bluish hue.
Scar pulled Kimblee's hands off his arm, and (quite literally) tossed him into the bed frame. Kimblee gasped as his spine hit the metal, his eyes widening for a second before turning into slits. Scar then sat down on his bunk, crossing his arms, partly because he was absolutely pissed, and because it definitely was getting colder. Kimblee smirked, and climbed onto his bunk.
"You are a monster. I've heard about what you've done. Eleven people? State alchemists, nonetheless! You even killed Iron Blood! He was a thorn, took the killing of your people seriously, but not in the right way. He didn't think too higly of it. Not as highly as he should have thought of it." Kimblee murmured, staring Scar in the eye.
"Shut your mouth, you pitiful excuse of a human." Scar said, looking anywhere but at Kimblee. As much as it bothered him, he couldn't look at Kimblee. If he had to look at his ugly grin for any longer, Scar would literally kill him.
"You don't want to admit it, but deep down you know. Me and you? We're in the same boat. We're both heartless killers. Killing for sport. For blood. We destroy things, and don't think much of it. It's in our nature." Kimblee said, before shutting up, leaving Scar to sit and try to calm himself.
Out of all the people in Amestris, all the prisoners in Amestris, he was stuck in the cell with the man he hated the most.